


Richie Tozier's first times

by GCST45



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Hotel Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Please Be careful, Rape/Non-con Elements, Some Richie/OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 23:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17253659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GCST45/pseuds/GCST45
Summary: At 40, Richie Tozier finds out he's still a virgin.





	Richie Tozier's first times

**Author's Note:**

> This sucks. It was supposed to be a headcanon on Tumblr, a three paragraph thing, but it kept biggering and biggering and biggering, and Tumblr said I had passed the limit. So I'll just post it here. This isn't proof-read, because I'm honestly so done with it and I want to sleep, so please excuse my bad english. And be careful, bad stuff aren't too explicit, but they happen. I hope you enjoy it!

The girl takes off her bra. Richie can’t recall her name, but it was something sweet and musical, like Elodie or Daisy. However, Elodie or Daisy is anything but sweet and musical, with her curly, abundant blonde hair, her strident make-up and the bubblegum she’s furiously, loudly chewing.

She doesn’t even spit it out before pulling Richie in for another breathtaking make out session. They had spent the last three weeks making out every time they can, though they’re not dating. But the farthest they had gone has been a few days ago, at the movies. In the darkness, Elodie or Daisy put Richie’s hand under her skirt and asked him to touch her.

He did, but it wasn’t nice. She didn’t get wet enough and complaint a few times that he was too rough, too inexperienced. Still, it was enough to provide him of good spank material until their next encounter, inside his car, with their legs awkwardly intertwined, when they would finally have sex.

Her boobs are almost funny. They point at different directions and Richie has to bite his tongue not to make a joke about it, as his hands squeezes them. Next thing he knows is that there’s purple lipstick all over his face and his date is laying on her back, legs wide open, waiting for him to figure out how it works.

It’s awful. He moves like a fish out of water and comes in less than three minutes. Elodie or Daisy is sore and angry and —now that he thinks about it— also kind of drunk. She ends up crying, telling him how boys don’t take her seriously, but he can’t offer her any comfort. He just drops her at her house and never calls her again.

At 17, Richie Tozier had sex for the first time.

* * *

 

She’s older than him. Like, way older. Her name starts with Mrs. But she’s still hot, with boobs that fall naturally and beautiful —probably due the good knife of a plastic surgeon—, long eyelashes and wavy, brown hair. So when she offers, Richie accepts, even though everything about her feels fake.

Even her moans sound fake. The way the bed’s head hits the wall sounds fake. Her gasping when Richie finally obeys to her begs of being choked sound fake.

She looks at him with those big, blue eyes, intimate and untrust-worthy at the same time. She caresses his cheek with soft pianist fingers, shiny with rings and long, red nails. She runs those nails down his chest, gently, with a smirk on her obscene lips.

Mrs. Mollins isn’t like any other woman he ever had. She’s got skills. She knows how to use her tongue, and likes to be grabbed by the hair as she does it. She isn’t that good at listening, but loves being called names.

And she’s crazy over Richie’s dirty mouth. Not only she doesn’t care, but she actively encourages him to keep talking, to say the most depraved things he can think about. To the point where it almost makes him uncomfortable. But again, Mrs. Mollins isn’t very good at listening.

She’s good at teaching, though. She teaches Richie how to “treat a lady” in her own words. Soon, Richie learns how to tie up, spank and slap. He eventually forgets how to say “no”, because when Mrs. Mollins asks stuff like “are you a dirty college boy?” and “do you like mommy’s pussy?” the only right answer is always “yes”.

However, he doesn’t mind. Sometimes, when they’re done, Mrs. Mollins let him stay inside her and hide his face between her giant breasts, as she strokes his hair and hums sweet, old tunes from the town where she grew up. And at those moments, Richie senses the smallest hint of happiness, and he doesn’t care that it feels fake, too.

Mr. Mollins finds out a few months later and he takes Mrs. Mollins away without even giving her the chance to say goodbye. Richie is slightly grateful for that. He knows she wouldn’t want to say goodbye, anyway.

At 21, Richie Tozier fucked someone for the first time.

* * *

 

He doesn’t have a clue about this guy’s name. Actually, he isn’t even sure it was just one guy. He could hear some laughter, too, and at some point, someone put a can of beer on his arched back and exclaimed “look, he works as a table!”

What he does remember is that they met at a nightclub. He wasn’t dancing and the guy wasn’t, either. They spent the whole night staring at each other from opposite sides of the room. He was a typical California dude, with bleached hair and tanned skin, the first opened buttons of his shirt insinuating an athletic complexion. Probably a surfer.

Finally, he walks towards Richie. His teeth are so white they seem to shine under the colored lights of the club. Next thing Richie knows is that that confident smile is against his neck and one of those strong arms is around his middle.

“You’re making me so hard,” the guy whispers in a low voice.

Normally, Richie wouldn’t take shit like this. Oh, no, he would kick him in the balls, make a stupid joke, even punch him. But this is the first time he feels like this. This is the first time a man makes him feel like this. And he wants to know how far will they take it before he wants to back off, before he realizes he’s just confused, before he…

“Wanna leave with me, baby?”

Richie nods, wide-eyed, not knowing what to say for the first time in his life. The guy chuckles and tells him he’s adorable. Richie’s knees are trembling.

There are so many people in the car that Richie has to sit on his new friend’s lap. And he can, indeed, feel the evidence of how much he wants him. He can’t even speak, and the guy’s friends all have cigarettes, filling the old car with smoke that makes his head light. And they all want to talk to Richie, and joke with him, and offer him sips of their beers.

It’s all fun and games, the night is young and so are they, until the car stops. It’s an empty lot in the middle of nowhere, not a hint of civilization around them. It looks like the kind of place where teenagers get murdered in cheap horror movies.

Richie doesn’t like it and wants to go home, but all the boys convince him to stay. They make him get out of the car, and being as light-headed and confused as he is, Richie does it. Everything seems to spin around him. If he doesn’t sit down, he’s going to pass out.

He tries to explain it, when the guy pulls him down to his knees. The dirt hurts him and he’s sure he’s kneeling in some rests of glass. He definitely doesn’t like this, but he can’t find strengths to stand up.

Then they put something in his mouth. Something big and thick that hurts his jaw and makes him want to vomit. He looks up to the guy with teary eyes, but there’s no sign of the smooth, charming dude he met at the club.

“Suck,” he orders, and starts pushing in and out, no time to get used to it, no time to breathe.

He doesn’t come, though. Instead, he makes Richie stand up again and bends him over the hood of the car, pulling his pants down. Richie starts crying, cheek pressed against the cold metal. The voices, the laughter… it all seems to be so far away, even the pain, but he hears someone in the distance claiming “he’s bleeding, he’s bleeding!”, as if they were proud of it.

Once they’re done, they leave him there, laying on the dirt. He can’t tell how much time has passed, but the first rays of sunlight start reaching his sore eyes. Calmly, Richie picks his clothes up, puts them on and stumbles back home. These things happen, he tells himself. Don’t make a big deal of it.

At 25, Richie Tozier got fucked for the first time.

* * *

 

It’s still dark outside, but he can’t sleep. His eyes keep travelling from one spot to another, seeking for something, for some proof of what is happening is truly happening.

He can’t trust nothing. Not the closet at the other side of room; IT might come out from there. Not the chair where he threw his clothes; they might take the shape of IT the next time he blinks. Not the window, and he doesn’t even need an explanation for that.

And, above all those things, he can’t trust the knocking on his door.

It’s insisting to the point he can’t deny it, he can’t blame his imagination. It has to be IT. Starting to shiver, Richie pulls the sheets over his head, in a childish attempt to create a false barrier between him and whatever it’s outside. And since IT feeds from the fear, it might work after all.

The door slowly opens, not without complains that give away its age. Richie peeks out from his hiding place. Without his glasses, he can barely figure out the silhouette of someone, cut out against the night sky. A man.

No. No, IT wouldn’t. What is he thinking? Of course IT would. IT is.

The door is closed as gently and nosily as it was opened. Richie covers himself up again and hears the footsteps. Then, he feels the weight of a body sitting at the feet of his bed and a hand subtly tapping his leg.

He’s ready. He knows what’s coming and he’s ready to hear it. He’s ready to face it.

“Rich?” A soft voice asks.

Richie’s eyes open. That’s not what he was expecting. Shocked, he sits up and turns the lamp on as fast as he can, putting on his glasses.

This is clearly not what he was expecting.

Eddie is sitting there, a concerned look in his eyes, a slight shade of pink on his cheeks. Richie can see a blob fall down the insides of his throat and almost feel the desperate running of his heartbeat.

“Eds, what are you doing here?”

Eddie swallows again, his fingers intertwined over his lap.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Richie sighs.

“Me neither.”

“Can I stay with you for a while?”

He knows he shouldn’t say yes. IT isn’t only still a possibility, but it’s more likely than ever. It wouldn’t be the first time IT uses Eddie to trick Richie, and the fact that this time it can’t be to separate him from the group, only makes it worse to imagine what IT could do to him now.

But when looking at Eddie’s worried face, when hearing the way his voice is shaking, when feeling the warm pressure of his body against his feet, Richie knows there’s nothing in the world he can trust more than him.

“Sure. C’mere,” he finally says.

Eddie disappears under the sheets in less than a second, the wave of air it moves vanishing when he gets closer to Richie, his physical presence bringing almost as much warmth as his psychic one.

Richie turns off the lights, fearing that, if he stares at Eddie for one more second, he’s going to turn into something horrible and scary. But he doesn’t. Though it’s slightly scaring, what happens next is far from horrible.

In a sudden rush of bravery, Eddie throws a leg around Richie and lays on top of him, so close their noses almost touch.

“Eds, what are you…”

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He just brushes his cheek against Richie’s, a tender touch, as his hands grab his shoulders.

“Rich…” he mutters, sounding like he’s about to cry or moan or both.

He pulls up to look at him. Richie can barely see him without his glasses, but he knows exactly what face he’s making. He moves his lips, as if to say “what’s wrong?” but the words don’t come out.

“Richie… do you want this too?” Eddie asks, lips against Richie’s, “‘Cause I can’t stop thinking about it.”

At last, Richie snaps out of it. Testosterone rushes through his veins as he puts his arms around Eddie’s middle and squeezes him, like he’s scared he’s going to disappear. Eddie chuckles and then they’re making out.

“Fuck, Eds.”

“Well, I’m not against that plan.”

Richie can’t hide his surprise.

“Oh-ho-ho, Eds gets off a good one!”

“Beep-beep, Richie,” he whispers, hands on Richie’s face, as he pulls him in for another kiss.

They stay like that for a few minutes, hungrily devouring each other. It doesn’t take too long for Eddie to start rolling his hips, slightly rutting against Richie.

“Holy shit. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I didn’t. You’ve created this monster,” Eddie jokes.

Richie laughs out loud, raising his knee a bit without realizing. Eddie whines a little. They both stare at each other, shocked.

“It’s alive!” Richie exclaims, and Eddie can’t help but chuckle.

But before Richie can make another Frankenstein reference, Eddie is lowering himself on top of him, unbuttoning his shirt as he goes down.

“Hey, what you…” Richie tries to ask, as he pulls off Eddie’s t-shirt, only to be interrupted by his dick jumping out his pants.

Eddie’s technique isn’t that good. He can’t get more than the tip in and it consists mostly on kitten licks and soft pecks. Still, it’s the greatest thing Richie has ever felt, and the obviousness of this being the first time Eddie does something like this only makes it better.

“Eds, you don’t have to…”

Eddie looks up to him from under the sheets.

“But I want to…” Another lick. “Unless you don’t want it.”

Of course he fucking wants it.

“I sure do, but baby, I don’t want you to feel forced to…”

This time, Eddie leaves what he’s doing and gets himself up to Richie’s face again, his chest and stomach sliding against his.

“Hey,” he says, low and amused, “I want this. You’re not forcing me to do anything. So please let me do it.”

Richie has forgotten how to speak.

“W-what exactly did… what you wanna do, Eds?” He stutters.

Eddie drags his lips all over his cheek until they’re resting under his ear.

“I wanna do everything.”

If Richie died right here, right now, with Eddie on top of him, it’d be more than alright.

Luckily, he doesn’t die. He just watches, frozen, as Eddie struggles to take off all of their clothes, and Richie’s hands get on his thighs as soon as he’s done.

“Shit, babe, I don’t know. I mean, I’ve got condoms, but about the lube…”

“Don’t worry. I already took care of it.”

Richie’s right hand crawls a bit higher. And then he finds out what Eddie means.

“Damn, did you prep yourself or do I just make you that wet?” He laughs.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“I prepped myself.”

“Mngh, expecting to get lucky?”

“Just hopping.”

“Well, lucky you.”

With everything said, Richie rolls them over, so now he’s on top, between Eddie’s opened legs. He reaches out to turn on the lights, not only to find the condoms and properly putting one on, but also because he wants to see Eddie, to remind himself this is happening, this is not some nightmare, this is actually his best friend.

He’s beautiful. Richie never considered a guy beautiful before, and it wasn’t his favorite adjective when referring to females either —most of them were sexy or hot or gorgeous—, but it seems to be the only word capable of describing Eddie, eyelids heavy, pink spreading over his skin, chest raising and falling with an illogical, relaxed panting.

Eddie is beautiful and Richie wants to tell him. He just doesn’t know how, because even when it’s obvious that they’re not doing this because they’re horny, it still feels out of place. It still feels like asking for too much.

And he has never said it, either.

“I’m gonna…” He tries to brush it off, “I’m gonna make sure you’re ready, okay? This is… I mean, this is the first time you… Isn’t it?”

“It is,” Eddie confirms, smiling.

“Alright, then. I just wanna… stretch you a bit more, what do you think?”

“You’re the expert.”

Richie would feel a rush of pride widening his chest at that comment, if it wasn’t inherently false.

Richie is not an expert. Not on this. Since his first-first time, he has fucked and gotten fucked multiple times, in multiple positions and places, with multiple people. But he doesn’t want to fuck Eddie, no matter how many times he tells himself he does. It’s not about that, and whatever it is, Richie doesn’t have any experience on it.

Yet, he understands Eddie refers to the mechanics of the act itself. All he expects from Richie is for him to know when he’s ready, when everything is ready, how long should the processes take and why, how fast or slow to move. And Richie can’t allow himself to disappoint him.

“Rich, I’m ready,” Eddie sighs a few minutes later, “I know I am.”

“Are you sure? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me. Please, trust me… Don’t treat me like… like everybody else.”

Richie gulps and nods solemnly.

“Fine.”

He gets fully on top of Eddie and immediately feels his hands on his shoulders, clinging. He takes a second for aligning himself and, sooner than later, Eddie’s insides are receiving him, like he just came home after years of being away. Like he belongs there.

“Oh my God,” Eddie sobs, holding Richie so tight it hurts them both.

“ _Shhh_ , I know, baby. Do you—”

“No. It just… it feels so weird, Richie.”

Richie smiles sadly.

“I guess that’s the best you can get.”

Not even five minutes go by before Eddie gets used to the feeling and starts begging for more. Richie skips all teasing when he decides to indulge. Mrs. Mollins used to say he was supposed to tease, and he knows it brings good results, but it might be the last time he can be with Eddie like this, they might die tomorrow, and this guy has been waiting his whole life for something like this to happen. Richie doesn’t intend to ruin it with fucking protocol.

They soon find a rhythm they both like. It’s not a wonder; just gently pushing all the way in, hitting the exact place and keeping it there until Eddie looks overwhelmed. Passing out is not an option. They’ll get there if they get out from this alive.

Eddie wraps his hands around Richie as he lifts him up, until he’s practically sitting on Richie thighs, their lips smashing against each other as they slowly work themselves all the way to the stars.

Then Eddie cums on both of their stomachs and falls backwards, panting in pure post-orgasmic bliss. Richie cleans him up, throws the condom into the garbage can and lays next to him.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispers.

“Fuck indeed, my good old friend.”

They laugh as Richie makes Eddie rest his head on his chest, an arm still around him.

“What does this mean?” the shorter one asks when everything has calmed down.

“Well… what do you want it to mean?”

Eddie smiles and looks down.

“I think you know that.”

Richie squeezes him lightly.

“Yep, I guess I know.”

“What do _you_ want it to mean?”

“Um… the same thing?”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

They press against each other, the smell of sex and the sticky feeling of sweat drying on their skin not enough to distract them from the incomparable joy of being together. Richie nuzzles his nose into Eddie’s hair and inhales deeply. His eyelids are already falling when Eddie speaks.

“Rich?”

“ _Mhm_?”

“Your first time… was it… was it this good?”

Richie thinks it over. He remembers Elodie/Daisy’s strawberry bubblegum and her funny breasts. He remembers Mrs. Mollins’s fake moans and the things she used to say, not giving him a chance to consider if he liked them at all. He remembers the guy with no name and his thousands of faceless friends, their laughs and the cold feeling of the can of beer on his back.

His sincere grin doesn’t even tremble when he stares into Eddie’s wide eyes and answer without a shadow of a doubt:

“What are you talking about? This _is_ my first time.”

Eddie looks confused for a second, and then he laughs. An open, strident laugh, from the bottom of his heart, as he gives Richie a playful punch.

“You’re such an idiot,” he giggles.

Richie laughs too, and kisses him again, and again, and again. He kisses him until they fall asleep, not even caring about the day that awaits for them at the other side of their bedroom’s door. And, simultaneously, hopefully aware of the life that might come next now they’re together.

At 40, Richie Tozier made love for the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr as takealottodragmeawayfromreddie.


End file.
